


The Art of Healing

by Mordraugsereg



Series: Wolf Hunt [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Stiles is injured and Derek heals him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 12:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordraugsereg/pseuds/Mordraugsereg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Stiles is injured by a mountain lion Derek uses his new Alpha form to help heal the wounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Healing

**Author's Note:**

> This goes along with my other story, Wolf Hunt. It takes place immediately after chapter four, but can be read as a separate story.
> 
> Let me know what you think!

“Oh, come on! Derek, this is ridiculous. Get off me!” The quirky teen was still face down in the dirt, unable to move for fear of getting an arm torn off by the wolf that was standing over him. The teeth that had found their way to his shoulder when he had been tackled were replaced by a licking tongue the minute he had stopped struggling to get up.

The sensation itself wasn’t odd; he had played with dogs before and loved their friendly kisses. This however, wasn’t just a dog giving him wet slobbery licks as a friendly greeting. No, this was a brooding werewolf that was licking his wounds to heal them. And he most certainly was not a fan of it either. The embarrassment at having a grown man turned wolf licking his body was just too humiliating and wrong.

As the wolf’s nose dipped lower on his back, running along the heated burns, he spoke again. “For Pete’s sake would you stop? The gesture is nice but I’ll be fine on my own.” When the cold nose poked his burnt back, he sucked in a harsh breath as a shiver went up his spine. “That is totally uncalled for! Cold is not a treatment for burns so would you keep that thing to yourself?”

He wanted to fidget under the wolf’s ministrations, uncomfortable with the situation, but didn’t want to have a cold ice cube of a nose prodding him into submission again. It hadn’t hurt per se but the cold contact on his heated flesh had pulled the skin in an uncomfortable way. The warm contact of tongue on the cooled flesh sent goose bumps flying across his arms and he shivered again.

“Stupid wolf,” he mumbled when the geese finally left his arms. This earned another nose prod to his back but he was surprised that it didn’t feel as cold as before. Moving as minimally as possible, but still managing to accomplish his task, Stiles stretched out his back and shoulders finding that there was only a small amount of tightness left in the middle. Derek had said it looked to be worse in that area so maybe it would take a little longer to heal.

He was about to say something, but a small nip to his left calf silenced his voice before he could get it working. Instinct took over when the tongue dipped into the wound on his right calf and had the leg jerking out of reach of the wolf’s muzzle. When the dark creature moved to get closer to the leg, Stiles shifted so that it stayed out of reach. The tweezers were preferable to this kind of torture.

Compensating for the wolf’s movements again, Stiles stilled when white fangs were bared in his direction, an angry snarl accompanying them. “Fine! You win. Have your way with the rest of my body and I’ll just lay here like there’s not a thing wrong with this situation.”

He had expected another snarl to meet his words but was shocked when a bark sounded above him. Turning to see the face of the wolf and assess the other’s reaction, his only response was a groan. “I knew it. I don’t have ADD. Whatever I have is contagious and werewolves aren’t even immune to it.”

The big bad Derek Hale had yet again shocked him. The bushy tail was wagging back and forth and a very canine grin was spread across the lupine face. If he had stumbled upon the wolf on the street and it was acting the same way, he'd have thought it belonged to someone and was as friendly as any domestic dog could be.

"You think this is funny, don't you?" The tail wagged a fraction faster. "You're absolutely horrible. First it's throwing me against walls and now you have me pinned down licking me clean."

Color drained from his face before being replaced by a rosy red on his cheeks. His thoughts caught up with his mouth and he was horrified and embarrassed at the double meaning in them. How did he manage to get himself into these situations?

The pointed snout dipped down and Stiles thought he had been going to lick the wound again but was confused when the tip of the dark nose hovered over the ground. He was about to comment that he had finally made the werewolf uncomfortable when he heard the little huffs coming from the creature. No, he hadn't embarrassed the wolf, he had made him laugh, or at least laugh as much as a dog could.

Burying his face in his arms, he waited for the humiliation to end; his constant talking always got him into trouble but this time it had out done itself. If lightning struck him then and there, killing him, it wouldn't have been soon enough.

It seemed like ages went by before the sting of tongue on flesh brought him back to the humiliating situation at hand. At least there was no one around to witness the act. Though, if he ever did tell someone that Derek had actually wagged his tail and laughed his wolfish laugh, they'd never believe him.

The feeling of a thousand tiny insect legs crawling around the gash caught Stiles’ attention. Reaching down to scratch at the irritation, he received a nip to his knuckles. Shooting the glacier blue eyes a glare over his shoulder he opened his mouth to speak. Another nip to his fingers stopped him for the briefest of moments before continuing on. "You're giving me flees." Light blue eyes seemed to darken at the notion.

As he moved his hand again to scratch at the irritation, he found it rendered immobile. Jaws were locked around his wrist, not in a tight hold but strong enough that if he tried to struggle he'd send the canines into his flesh. The tiny creepy crawlies were spreading through his leg and across the surrounding area. It itched more than anything and he wanted to make it stop. Smirking at the wolf, he had more than one limb that could be used to scratch.

Before his left leg could twitch a paw landed on it, pinning his lower leg to the dirt. This was just getting better and better. If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought that the older male had telepathic abilities. There was no other way for Derek to have known that he had been about to use his foot as a tool.

"Just let me scratch my damn leg, Derek! I feel like there's an army of ants marching their way around it," he finally shouted.

A soft growl sounded from Derek as he shook his head minutely.

"No? Why not?" He could just make out the blue eyes glancing to the gash and then back up before another growl sounded.

Turning his head around to see the wound, craning his neck back and to the left, a small gasp left his lips. The army of ants that were marching across his skin was actually his skin re-growing. What had previously been a rather nasty looking gash was rapidly becoming a small cut. Skin seemed to creep in fast motion over the wound making it almost nonexistent in a matter of moments.

The sensation of ants crawling across his forearm brought the teen from his shocked state, aware of a tongue lapping at the fresh skin. “Derek, you can stop now. It’s healed.”

Blue met brown, head cocked to side. Stiles was really hoping that the wolf that Derek had become wasn’t going to leave a permanent effect on the man. This new Derek, this creature that was showing more affection and concern than the man had ever shown before, was really starting to freak the teen out.

When he had first seen the wolf, he had been afraid of it, not having seen this particular werewolf form before. The man under the fur was more often than not in a bad mood, always throwing him against walls or threatening him with bodily harm. Both forms could tear him limb from limb, but something about the canine form had been frightening at first. Now the fuzz butt was nothing more than an oversized puppy that was looking to give its plaything a bath.

Stiles pushed at the snout that was still hovering over him, “Seriously man, get off.” He squirmed under the wolf and was able to crawl out from all four limbs.

Rolling over onto his back and staring up into the blue sky, the clouds rolling by slowly, he looked back over at the wolf. It’s dark fur shown with the blue highlights cast by the sun. The electric blue eyes were staring at the lake, shifting from spot to spot as if tracking the movements of some invisible foe.

Turning his attention away from the canine and standing, Stiles stretched like he had earlier that day. Twisting first to the left than the right and feeling the barest of twinges in his back, he nodded his approval. He had full use of his back and didn’t have to worry about his dad asking unanswerable question. Flexing his right foot and finding no pain shooting through his limb, he took a few steps. The first one had him stumbling when pain spiked in the middle of his calf. So it wasn’t completely healed yet. His second step had a limp in it, favoring his right leg, and was able to walk a few more steps after that.

Before he knew it he was at his tent, relief washing over him at having virtually no sign of the attack to explain to people.


End file.
